


the one where books aren't the only thing checked out

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU April, AU Meeting, F/F, Library AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 17:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14430429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: The one where Jemma works in a library and can't help noticing a certain regular patron





	the one where books aren't the only thing checked out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theclaravoyant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/gifts).



“Jemma, when you’re done with those, I want you on the check-out desk so that Monica can go home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jemma calls to her boss where she leans around the end of her current aisle. It only takes her a few more minutes in the stacks to empty her cart and head back up to the front, passing rows of work tables in one of the main areas on the way. The library seems to be full today of its usual daytime cast—a few college-aged students with their laptops and stacks of texts for research papers, a few retirees with their newspapers and books, a handful of working-age men and women in the middle of various tasks on the computers. It’s a school day, so children are scarce for the moment, and the library is about as quiet as it gets at this hour.

When she glances into the children’s area just beyond the front door, however, Jemma notices a definitely-not-adolescent girl in a green flannel shirt curled in one of the beanbags in the children’s reading corner. She has a backpack and a short stack of thick books beside her, her brow pinched in concentration on the book open across her thighs. Jemma spends the rest of the afternoon at the front desk, checking out books and fielding the occasional question, but she does occasionally glance over at the children’s area as the hours pass and finds the girl still there on her beanbag, though the book in her hands seems to occasionally change.

When three o’clock rolls around and Jemma leaves the desk in the hands of the afternoon shift, she sees the girl still in the beanbag as she heads out the door.

So maybe it’s not that surprising that when Jemma is re-shelving books the next time she works and glimpses a green flannel shirt as she passes an aisle, she makes some excuse to double back a moment later and see if it’s the same person who was wearing such a shirt last time. It is, though this time, the young woman has set up shop at one of the work desks along the back wall at the other end of the stacks. This time, she also has an open laptop in front of her, one that appears to be relatively new. Jemma can’t come up with any excuse to speak to her, but she does notice when she passes by with her cart a little while later that the stack of books at the girl’s elbow are mostly GED practice texts.

It’s impossible not to notice the girl’s presence after that. Though she seems to rotate her spot throughout the different areas in the library, Jemma spots the girl somewhere in the building nearly every shift she works in the weeks that follow. She almost always seems to be wearing the same shirt, and Jemma occasionally catches a whiff of fried food when she passes close to her. Besides that, the girl’s hair seems to live in a bun or a braid, a trick Jemma has used often enough to make her own unwashed hair presentable. The combination of unchanging clothes and minimal shower habits would normally lead Jemma to one conclusion, but the confusing presence of the new-looking laptop makes Jemma less certain of the girl’s living situation.

She usually arrives by eleven every day, and Jemma rarely sees her leave before her own shift is over mid-afternoon. One weekend, however, Jemma works an afternoon-evening shift and watches an entirely different crowd of people cycle through the library doors. Families with all the children, students working on projects, working-age men and women, seniors…but she still spots the girl in a desk in one of the far corners of the library, headphones in her ears and bent over a book, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world.

Maybe that’s why she doesn’t seem to hear the announcement over the PA system about closing time approaching, because when it’s finally time to lock the doors, she still hasn’t moved from her seat.

As she approaches, Jemma isn’t sure why she suddenly feels nervous.

“Excuse me,” she says, touching the girl lightly on the shoulder when she doesn’t immediately answer. At the touch, the girl jerks in her seat, dislodging a stack of books with her elbow as she spins on the chair to look at Jemma.

“What?” she snaps, and Jemma tries not to take it personally.

“I’m afraid it’s closing time,” she says, gesturing towards the empty library around them. “So I’ll have to ask you to pack up for today.”

“Oh,” the girl says, ducking her head immediately and blushing slightly. “Sorry. I forgot you guys close earlier on Sundays. Just give me a minute.”

The books and laptop are hastily thrown into a fabric shopping bag at the girl’s feet, and Jemma barely has time to say anything else as she follows the girl towards the door.

“See you on Tuesday,” she calls as she unlocks the door for the girl to leave, but the brunette either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t know what she means, because she doesn’t acknowledge Jemma at all as she hustles out. As she re-locks the glass doors before moving back inside to finish her closing duties, Jemma sees her climbing into a sky-blue van, the only car left in the front lot.

It’s impossible not to notice that it’s still there when Jemma leaves half an hour later.

That’s the last of their interactions for over a week, but one weekday when Jemma is scheduled to open, she actually notices that the blue van is absent when she parks in her employee spot. About an hour after she unlocks the doors, however, the girl comes walking in with her bag over her shoulder, dressed in a waitress’s uniform from a local diner that Jemma is vaguely familiar with. The girl goes straight to the bathroom and emerges a few minutes later in regular clothes, making brief, embarrassed eye contact with Jemma as she passes her on the way to one of the work tables.

 _There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,_ Jemma wants to call after her, but she doesn’t get the words out.

A few days later though, when she is closing up for the night again, she finally hears the girl say something, though it’s not until she’s out in the parking lot.

“Do you happen to have jumper cables?”

Jemma spins, jumping slightly, relieved to see that there’s still only one other car in the lot, and it’s the familiar blue van. The brunette is standing next to its open hood, looking frustrated.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” she says when Jemma doesn’t immediately answer. “I know I should have my own, but I’m a broke millennial, and I don’t have roadside assistance…”

“I have some,” Jemma says quickly. “Just one moment, I’ll bring my car around.”

Within a minute, she has her car pulled into the spot next to the girl’s and is popping the hood.

“Did you leave the lights on, or something?” Jemma asks as she grabs her emergency roadside kit out of the trunk.

“Or something,” the girl answers unforthcomingly. “I should have been paying more attention.”

“I’m Jemma,” she says as she passes one end of the cables to the other girl.

“Skye,” she answers, attaching the red end to the correct place on her battery, as if this is not her first time to do this.

Sensing from her tone that the girl is not in a chatty mood, Jemma attaches the cables to her own car’s battery in silence, then climbs back into the driver’s seat and turns on the engine.

“Thanks,” Skye says, folding her arms as she watches her battery. “I’ll give it a couple of minutes and then try the engine.”

She glances at Jemma, still sitting in her driver’s seat with the door open, and smiles with one side of her mouth. “You don’t usually do the closing shift—draw the short straw this week?”

Surprised and confusingly elated that the girl has been as aware of her presence in the library as Jemma has been of hers, Jemma smiles widely. “Oh, well, my manager knows I teach mostly evening classes, so I usually only have this shift once a week or so.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher,” Skye says, suddenly looking more embarrassed. “I had assumed student—you look about my age.”

“I might be,” Jemma says quickly. “I graduated…quite early. But I liked school too much to be finished so soon, so now I’m teaching.”

“Are you at the local Academy?” Skye asks, for some reason now refusing to meet her eyes.

“Yes, exactly,” Jemma says, smiling again.

Skye’s gaze remains on the ground, however. “You’re way outta my league then,” she mutters with a shake of her head, opening her driver’s side door and climbing into the driver’s seat.

The engine starts up without hesitation as she turns the ignition, which makes the girl sag against the steering wheel in relief.

“ _Thank fucking God_ ,” she sighs, leaving the engine running as she climbs out to disconnect the cables as Jemma does the same on your side. “You’re a lifesaver.”

With the interior lights now on, Jemma can see into the cab of the van, which has the back seats folded away and instead has an inflatable pool float with a blanket over it filling the space, as well as something that looks like a small generator…

“Thanks again,” Skye says, pulling Jemma’s attention back to the young woman in front of her as she closes the hood of the van.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Jemma asks suddenly, before she can overthink it. “Because I haven’t, and I was hoping to get something before I went home.”

Even in the dim light of their pair of car interiors, Jemma thinks she sees Skye blush slightly as she drops her gaze.

“I haven’t, but I’m a little broke, as you can probably tell,” she says, waving vaguely at the van. “And I wish I could treat you for helping me out, but—“

“Oh no, that’s not…I want to take _you_ out.”

There’s a moment of mutually stunned silence after those words, Jemma stunned by her own bluntness, Skye appearing stunned by the offer.

“I don’t need a handout disguised as interest,” the girl says, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’ve, uh, actually been wanting to talk to you for weeks now,” Jemma confesses. “I’m just a coward who excels at preparation and fails miserably at follow-through.”

For another quiet moment, Skye studies her in the half-dark, as though still trying to decide if she believes her.

“I need to drive my van for a while to recharge the battery,” she eventually says, and Jemma nods, feeling the rejection coming, but then Skye’s next words surprise her.

“But if you want to tell me where you were planning to eat, I could meet you there in 20?”

Jemma doesn’t even try to play it cool as she feels her face light up.

“Of course!”

“Anywhere but Ruthie’s Diner,” Skye says quickly. “That’s where I work every morning—I don’t need another minute in there this week.”


End file.
